


Gingerbread Houses and Gingerbread Homes

by triggerswaggiehavoc



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 13:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17101247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triggerswaggiehavoc/pseuds/triggerswaggiehavoc
Summary: Jihoon is just a man in a house surrounded by snow.





	Gingerbread Houses and Gingerbread Homes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the1the8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the1the8/gifts).



> happy holidays!! i really hope you like this and i'm sorry if it's not exactly what you pictured... i'm still trying to get back in the swing of things. i hope you're enjoying this holiday season regardless!

Snow falls into piles on the drive, thick and even. It’s been falling since the morning was dark, and Jihoon’s been watching from behind the window since not long after, a cup of coffee steaming against his lips. It’s been a while since they got this much snow, and he’s forgotten how strange the wind pushes through the hills around here. When it snows this much, the drifts run so thick on his driveway. Just thinking about it is giving him a headache.

After ten more minutes of silent watching, he decides to call out of work. If he really wanted to, he could probably manage the drive, but the sight of all the whiteness outside is begging him not to try. He’s tired, anyway. It’s about time he had a day off. His boss must agree, because he lets him off the hook without much fuss.

He climbs back into bed and closes his eyes against the glare through the windows, but a hard knock on the front door pulls him straight back to his feet. It comes again while he’s walking to answer it, and he grumbles. The people in this neighborhood are annoying at the very worst times. He’s still frowning when he opens the door and sees two figures standing out in the snow.

“Morning, Jihoon,” says the person on the left, an adult man. His neighbor Junhui, decked out in a thick scarf and beanie, coat puffing large around him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Just swell,” Jihoon says, tired. His eyes are glued to Junhui’s nose, peeking bright pink through the winter headgear shrouding most of his face. “Something I can help you with?”

Junhui clamps a gloved hand over the shoulder of the person beside him, a young boy whose eyes shine from below the fuzzy brim of a snow hat. His nose is just as glowing. “My nephew here,” Junhui says, patting the kid’s shoulder again, “was wondering if he could shovel the snow out of your driveway.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, sir!” The little guy smiles, and he’s missing two teeth on the bottom row. It tugs at the middle of Jihoon’s chest the exact way he doesn’t want it to. “Since you gotta get to work and all.” The too-big shovel in his hand wobbles a little in his excitement, and Jihoon’s eyebrows draw together. He glances at Junhui, grinning wide, and they draw together more.

“Go ahead,” he says, already feeling like a fraud for not mentioning he’s called out of work for today. Junhui shepherds his nephew down to the end of the drive to start working on the drifts that have started to form there, and as Jihoon watches, he consoles himself with the thought that giving a few bucks to a ten-year-old is not the worst thing he’s ever done. After a minute of standing in the doorway and letting his toes go numb, he retreats inside to watch through the window.

It’s hard to see their faces, but he can tell Junhui is smiling. As the pair team up to heft the single shovel, his frame shakes with laughter, large beside his nephew, who’s struggling just to get a solid grip on the handle. Junhui is doing most of the work by far, and the snow is still falling hard enough that all that work will be undone within a few hours, but Jihoon takes a sort of comfort in watching. He hasn’t got any nieces or nephews or anything, and he feels that gap when it gets close to the holidays like this. His house is one of the only few on the block without decorations, and the loneliness gets to him every now and then. By the time Jihoon remembers where he is, he’s lost sight of the two of them, and he dabs at his eyes with one wrist while he walks back to peer through the doorway.

Even though the cold outside starts to sting after a while, he stands and watches them work, shuffling slowly down the other side of the driveway. Over the quiet sound of the breeze, he hears them laughing, hears Junhui singing a Christmas song. Every now and then, he gets a word wrong, and eventually, he dissolves into making up his own lyrics as they go, keeping time with the beat of the shovel into the snowdrifts. His nephew laughs over the rhythm, barely managing to hang on to their joint shovel. Jihoon can’t make out the words, but he still feels a sort of pull behind his lungs. He sips at his cooling coffee to distract himself but stays standing in the doorway. It’s only when he hears the crunch of winter boots coming back up toward him that he realizes how long he’s been standing around or how cold he’s gotten.

“Worried about us?” Junhui asks, nose verging even more on cherry than before. His eyes sparkle from beneath the brim of his hat when he tips his chin at Jihoon, standing ice cold on the stoop.

Jihoon scrapes his brain for an answer. “Nothing else to do,” he says, weakly, and Junhui chuckles hard at him.

“Well, we appreciate it anyway,” he says. For a moment, the three of them stand there, breath laying in clouds on the air. Junhui’s nephew squirms a little in his boots, quiver in his lower lip betraying the bite of the cold.

“So,” Jihoon says, coughing, “what do I owe you for your services?”

“Fifty bucks,” Junhui says, grinning. A little gloved fist hits him in the side.

“Uncle Jun!” the boy crows, snot beginning to drip from his nose. “Don’t be mean.” Junhui laughs again, pats the kid on the top of his head.

“Anything you’re willing to pay is fine,” he says, grin warm. Jihoon stares at him for a while and sighs.

“Let me go get my wallet.”

Halfway through rummaging in all his coat pockets to find it, he realizes it would’ve been a better idea to invite them inside before embarking on this journey, but it’s too late to think about that now. Wallet in hand, he only hopes that they won’t be fuming or frostbitten when he opens the front door back up to the outside. The figure he finds waiting for him upon doing so is fortunately neither. Jihoon blinks.

“Where’s the kid?” he asks.

“He was cold,” Junhui tells him, shifting his weight back and forth on his heels, “so I sent him back home.” He waits a beat before saying, “I hate to intrude, but could I come inside?” Looking at the redness in his cheeks makes Jihoon’s heart lean soft. He steps aside to let him in.

Junhui breathes out heavy when he takes a seat on the couch, whipping his hat off to reveal a severe case of hat hair mixed with patches of static frizz. As he slowly doffs his winterwear, he reveals more and more pink skin to the air, unearths his whole face, gleaming like a cherub. He rubs his hands together and presses them to his face, grips the mug of coffee Jihoon brings him with a little urgency.

“Nice place you got here,” he says, taking a ginger sip.

“Don’t force yourself to make small talk if your teeth are chattering.”

“Hey, I mean it.” His eyes prowl the room while he drinks, a long breath sifting through his teeth. “It’s relaxing in here.” When he closes his eyes, he looks almost like a kid. “Smells like wood.”

Jihoon snorts. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Are you implying you don’t like the smell of your own house?”

“All I’m saying it’s not the smell of gingerbread or anything.”

For a minute, they don’t do any talking. Junhui sips quietly at his coffee, and as Jihoon watches him, he feels the weight of the wallet in his hand and remembers why they’re here at all. He thumbs a five out of his wallet, folds it in half, and sets it on the table. Looking at it there, it doesn’t seem like enough. After a few seconds, he pulls out a second and lays it on top. Junhui grins at him.

“Say, Jihoon,” he says, pink in his face finally beginning to tone down, “you already called out of work for today, huh?”

Jihoon squints. “You have my house wired?”

All of Junhui’s teeth show when he laughs, small and nearly silent. Steam from the mug floats over his chin and disappears around his cheeks. “Am I right?” His eyes twinkle. “I just figured you’d be in a little more of a rush if you actually had to be somewhere.”

“Well, yeah.” He sighs and leans back in his armchair. “But I don’t mind giving a kid a few bucks.” Eyeing Junhui sideways, he adds, “Even if you did most of the shoveling.”

“If you’re not busy,” Junhui says, still ignoring the ten dollars on the table, “do you want your house to smell like gingerbread?”

“Sorry?” Jihoon says, blinking. He watches Junhui swirl the dwindling pool of coffee in his mug.

“I’ve got an old family recipe if you’re interested.”

“Interested?”

“In making gingerbread cookies,” Junhui says. “We can make houses or men. Or both. Up to you.” He looks at Jihoon for a long while, expectant, fingertips tapping at the side of his mug.

“So,” Jihoon says, “what you’re saying is you actually don’t like the wood scent.”

“I do like it.”

“Yet you’d go to such lengths.”

“Maybe,” Junhui says, exhaling something soft, “I just think it’d be nice to spend a little more time with my dear neighbor.”

They look at each other a long time. Outside the window, snow is still falling in steady flurries, painting white back over the pea gravel Junhui and his nephew worked so hard to set free. Jihoon watches it pile up in droves on the sills, curtaining the windows in white from outside, and his hands feel a little chilly, a little restless. He’d love to do something worthwhile with them for once. Slowly, he cracks a grin in Junhui’s direction.

“So you’d ditch your nephew to make cookies?” he scoffs. “Not very responsible.”

Junhui chuckles, presses the top of the cup beneath his lips. “My sister-in-law is here too, you know,” he says. “But if you want me to bring him over, I’m sure he’d love to make some more cookies.” His eyes glitter while he talks, dancing with crystal flakes. “I think the little guy likes you, anyhow.” Jihoon snorts.

“How do you figure that?”

“Every time he’s here visiting, he asks when I’m going to invite over the cool guy from down the road.”

“What makes you think that’s me?”

“It’s definitely you,” Junhui promises. His smile dances around in Jihoon’s eyes. “It’s because you’re always leaving for work in a suit when he sees you.” A small sigh fills the pause, ghosting to nothing in the space between them. “He has this fantasy that someday we’ll be great friends and I’ll be cooler by proxy.”

“’By proxy’? Is that the wording he uses?”

“I’m sure it would be if he wanted it to. He’s a smart kid.” The silent sound of snow falling outside is almost like jingling sleigh bells. Jihoon is dying for a Christmas carol. “So should I go get him?”

For a few minutes, Jihoon thinks about it. He stares at the money still sitting untouched on the coffee table. “Sure,” he says at last. “Go get him.”

Junhui stands without another word to pull his coat and scarf back on. Despite all the time he’s spent inside warming up, his cheeks still hold on to a healthy amount of pink, warm above a wide smile. “You’re bringing a kid’s dream to life, you know,” he says, edging toward the door. He hovers there a moment before leaving, gloved fingers tight on the doorframe. “You’re a real Christmas miracle, Jihoon.”

He leaves, then, and Jihoon stands in the doorway and watches him run off down the hidden sidewalk, crunching a line of footprints in the snow as he goes. On either side of the street, driveways are busy with adults scraping snow off their cars and children scooping it up into misshapen snowmen. Junhui runs through it all, a straight shot four houses down. As Jihoon looks after him, he feels pink climbing steady to land on his features, smells the distant scent of gingerbread.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry! happy holidays everyone!


End file.
